


F-R-I-E-N-D-S (that's how you spell friends)

by catthedoodlecatcher



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Brief Barista! Lance, But Keith actually does love him back, Don't Judge Me, Friends With Benefits, Gay Keith (Voltron), I'm Sorry, Keith doesn't have dem feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Light Smut, M/M, Or DOES he?!, Sad Ending, They are just dumb, This was indulgence, Unrequited Love, very light though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15804567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catthedoodlecatcher/pseuds/catthedoodlecatcher
Summary: Lance and Keith are roommates who made a deal. Only Lance regrets it.





	F-R-I-E-N-D-S (that's how you spell friends)

**Author's Note:**

> So....this is my first fic in a very long time and I have reasons but they're not that interesting tbh. This is pure angst and I wrote it in about half an hour. Are there spelling mistakes? Probably. Feel free to tell me (kindly) if there are. Also I'm sorry this is sad. Otherwise I hope you enjoy this mess!

Because it’s not like Lance likes Keith. It’s not, okay?

 

It’s just that, when you’re a gang of average looking angsty teens (minus Shiro who Lance has pinned ‘Dad’ since day one) you tend to need each other when things get rough. When Lance misses his family and feels neglected by Hunk and Pidge and Coran and Shiro, he feels the need to find someone who makes him feel his presence is appreciated.

 

Keith is just a friend who fits this description.

 

Packing up his duffel bag in his workroom locker, Lance gently shuts the door and pockets his keys, feeling his fingers twitch with excitement. Barista or not, he’s determined to spend the last few remaining hours of this Tuesday night getting shitfaced. Keith was free. (Keith is always free) and so Lance feels excited for an evening of…totally PG fun.

 

Just as he exits ‘Altean Steamers’ coffee shop he feels a vibration in his pocket. His phone. He picks it up without even bothering to check who it is because he already knows.

 

“Where are you? It’s, like, 7pm”.

 

Lance grins, seeing an opportunity and taking it. “At least I was out earning the dough for the household mullet”.

 

A short huff sounds through the speaker. “Lance, I pay my rent with my student loan. I’m not a housewife”.

 

“…We don’t live in a house”.

 

“Okay okay _smartass_ , I’m not a rentedapartment wife. Happy?”

 

Lance smirks. “Very”.

 

Another huff, but it’s a gentler, warmer sound this time, like Keith is just oddly fond of Lance’s nitpicking. “How long will you be?”

 

“Ten minutes. Just gotta bike back”.

 

“Okay, see you later sharpshooter”.

 

“I told you not to call me that!”

 

It’s too late because seconds later Keith’s gleeful laughter is cut off by him hanging up, leaving Lance with a popping and fizzing feeling in his chest, spreading through him like a forest fire. But it’s not that he likes Keith.

 

Sometimes..he just wonders whether Keith is the only one who really gets him, y’know? Lance wonders, as he hops onto his wiry sky blue bike and pedals as fast as he can, if all best friends feel that way about each other. Like that friend is the best thing in your life. The one you want to hold onto forever.

 

Heat flooding his cheeks, Lance mentally reprimands himself. Keith is going to be in his life for as long as Keith wants to be. Lance doesn’t need Keith. It’s not like Keith needs him. They’re just two bros sharing an apartment in their second year f collage. They are just best friends. They are…sometimes all that Lance thinks he’s got.

 

-

 

Parking the thin blue bicycle outside the apartment complex, Lance pulls his arms high above his head for a moment, feeling his muscles pop as he stretches luxuriously. A comforting feeling washes over him, warm and reassuring. He knows he can do this. He can resist it. All he has to do is say no.

 

Keith is waiting on the sofa when Lance enters their space, eyes closed and bobbing his head along to some (probably…no, _definitely_ ) emo music. Feeling his face flush pleasantly, he takes in the sight. Long black bangs falling into his long black eyelashes. A calm, unguarded expression of sincere happiness dancing upon his face. A wonderful smile curving his slightly red lips where he had presumably been chewing on them. _Cute._

 

Lance reprimands himself. Nope. Not today. Not doing that.

 

Chucking his stuff down at the door, he bounces over to his best friend and pokes his cheek. Keith’s body stiffens immediately, but a laugh soon erupts from ut as violet eyes open to find blue and he takes the headphones off. Lance can practically hear ‘Teenagers’ by MCR before the music is switched off for good.

 

“Didn’t I tell you it’s rude to poke people, sharpshooter?”

 

Two grins. Two heated bodies. Lance can’t resist the feeling. “Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?”

 

Violet eyes loom ever closer. “Maybe I don’t listen to you when what you say isn’t agreeable”.

 

Their faces are inches apart. Lance swears he hasn’t breathed for minutes.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah, mullet”.

 

And he’ll berate himself tomorrow for what happens next. Arms snaking around Keith’s neck, hands curling into his hair. Mouths connect like muscle memory and when they kiss all that Lance can see is stars. He can't resist him. He never can.

 

The room grows hot and heavy, and Lance knows it has nothing to do with the lingering summer heat. He wants Keith. He needs Keith. Just kissing, just feeling those hands on his torso and his cheeks and his thighs, makes him feel crazy and high and flooded with lust.

 

Because Lance doesn’t like Keith. Lance _loves_ Keith.

 

And suddenly there are no clothes between them anymore. Suddenly there’s nothing but skin and warmth and desire and desperation. Heavy breathing mixes with moans. Keith’s whines and whimpers and cries of delight as he begs for Lance to go faster, harder, _further_ , drive Lance wild to the point where he doesn’t have to think. He just feels feels feels.

 

-

 

When they’re done and Keith has drifted off to sleep, Lance stares up at the ceiling trying in vain to quell the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

 

The memory replays in his head every time after they do this. Every time.

 

_“How about…”. Keith pauses, sweeping his bangs out of his face. Lance resists the urge to mess them up again. “How about we FWB it?”._

_“What?”_

_“Look, we have to live with each other, and I don’t want to mess things up. We were both shitfaced and…I don’t know. It’s not like we have feelings for each other. We’re just two attractive guys and we can just sleep together when we feel like it. No strings attached.’_

_He finally meets Lance’s eyes, and they are questioning. Because Keith isn’t a bad person. Keith cares about Lance and wants Lance to be happy. This three year friendship is not one Keith wants to compromise. If Lance opens his mouth, right now, and tells him that he loves him, Keith will know the truth. Keith will respect the truth. Keith may even love him back._

_“Yeah, why not?”_

_Those violet eyes light up in a way so breathtakingly beautiful that Lance can’t bring himself to regret it._

But now, lying on the sofa with Keith splayed on top of him with his heart hurtling at one hundred miles an hour, Lance does regret it. Because he doesn’t like Keith at all. He hates him. He hates that he loves him. He hates that every time Keith crinkles his eyes at him Lance wants to cry. He hates that even though he wants Keith to be his more than anything else, he'll do anything it takes to stay near him. To be with him, like this. It doesn't matter how many lies and unbearably heartbreaking moments he has to suffer through. He loves Keith too much. He needs him too much.

 

Lance has never been one to ask for things. He’s always accepted what he’s been given. But now, in the darkness of the bittersweet afterglow, he closes his eyes and prays to the God he was always told existed. He mumbles it softly, knowing Keith is asleep.

 

“I want to be loved back. Please, I want him to love me back”.

**Author's Note:**

> I made myself sad writing this but i was already sad so now I'm just...super sad? I dunno man but this is life y'know. I have some fluff coming soon that is definitely cute and fun and happy and NOT an angsty mess so stay tuned and watch this space! Also, I WILL eventually update 'Kill the Director'. At some point. Probably. But I left if for so long (for various reasons) that now I can't remember where I was going with the plot?? Sooo..soon, I promise!
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you have a great morning/afternoon/evening or whenever it is you're reading this. See you later pals!


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